


Unexpectedly

by sensiblysilly



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F, Pre-Relationship, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-10
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-08-07 20:35:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7728829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sensiblysilly/pseuds/sensiblysilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michelle didn’t really go out. Which was fine, totally fine. It’s not that she was against going out, exactly, it was just that there was no one that she really felt like going out with, you know? It totally made sense. Because she was cool and a trend-setter, and those sort of people always prefer solitude. Like, she hadn’t met anyone worth her attention, right? No one who held it, anyways. And that was totally, completely fine. Michelle liked being alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unexpectedly

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr at [sensiblysilly](https://sensiblysilly.tumblr.com)!

Michelle didn’t really go out. Which was fine, totally fine. It’s not that she was against going out, exactly, it was just that there was no one that she really felt like going out with, you know? It totally made sense. Because she was cool and a trend-setter, and those sort of people always prefer solitude. Like, she hadn’t met anyone worth her attention, right? No one who held it, anyways. And that was totally, completely fine. Michelle liked being alone.

 

So she wasn’t really expecting to meet anyone. And when a short girl - slightly chubby, with long dark hair, and even darker eyes - came into her record store, Michelle didn’t take much notice. It was just a regular Tuesday, in that it wasn’t actually Tuesday (as Tuesdays were currently forbidden by the City Council). It was a Wednesday, obviously. Larry was back, annoying as ever, asking for more Beatles albums - as if Michelle would stalk dubstep in her record store. She was telling Larry off, rolling her eyes and blowing up her lavender chewing gum into obnoxiously large bubbles before popping them loudly, when her eyes met Maureen’s dark ones across the Silence Albums Section.

 

Those dark eyes, piercing and longing – for something Michelle couldn’t identify. Michelle felt a sudden heaviness in her stomach, odd. Maureen’s eyelashes fluttered, her mouth twitched, her hands slid, loosening their grasp on the _Quiet Breathing from Two Rooms Away_ album to land on the counter in front of Michelle. Her fingers tapped lightly on its hard surface.

 

Tap. Tap. Tap.

 

“What do you recommend?” She asked, head tilted up. Michelle liked that, the sound of her voice, that was. It was hard, yet lilted. Unique, original. Michelle simply pointed to the record store’s newest stock: Justin Bieber’s newest album, where he whispered Betty Crocker recipes with thunder claps in the background. Maureen nodded, her loose hair swinging with the motion, and her fingers grabbing onto the album. She paid for it, in the usual way, by rubbing her index finger up and down the bridge of her nose and muttering the PIN of her credit card.

 

Then she made for the door. And Michelle didn’t know what made her do it, but she suddenly felt the need to make Maureen stay, even for just a moment. “I’m Michelle, by the way. I mean, I’m sure you know that. Obviously, because this is my shop, Dark Owl Records. You know, it’s the coolest and only record shop here, and I’m the owner. You know?” She says, slightly rushed, restless. Maureen watched her speak, listening, her eyes roaming Michelle’s face, her hands still, her cheeks pink.

 

“Maureen.” She replied, then bit her lip. Then she turned towards the door, stopped, tucked her hair behind her ear, looked back at Michelle for a moment, then left. Michelle watched her go. She thought about the color of Maureen’s cheeks and the up-twitch of the corners of her mouth as she laid in bed that night, before slipping into a deep sleep.

 

* * *

 

 

It was three days later, when Michelle ran into Maureen for the second time. She was at the Ralph’s, picking out fresh produce to buy, such as toothpaste and ear-mufflers, when she saw her. Her hair was up today in a messy bun, her lips pressed together tightly, her eyes focused as she scanned the labels of Campbell’s soup cans stacked neatly on the shelves in front of her.

 

“Hey, Maureen.” Michelle called over. She wasn’t sure what compelled her to do it. She didn’t usually greet other’s at the Ralph’s. Or ever, actually, whatever. It totally didn’t mean anything, you know? Maureen turned towards her, eyes narrowing slightly, her lips moved into a greeting. “Michelle, hi.”

 

“How’d you like the new album?” Michelle asked, her voice tentative. Maureen smiled. Her teeth were white and straight. There was a gap between her front two top teeth, noticed Michelle.

 

“It was good. I especially liked Home-Style Meatloaf.” Maureen replied, her eyes light and laughing. They made Michelle’s chest squeeze, weird.

 

“Totally.” Nods Michelle. That was her favorite number from the album too. Something about the thunderous space between chopped onions and ground beef that really hit her hard. It gave her shivers just thinking about it. She shivered in response.

 

“I really love the part between chopped onions and ground beef.” Added Maureen.

 

“Right.” Agreed Michelle, but then she backpedaled. Because if other people liked that part, it meant it was popular, and Michelle couldn’t be seen liking popular things, not _after_ they became popular. “Of course, that album is totally over. Music is all about the sounds of cats scratching scratch posts now.” She added, just to save face. She really didn’t want to though, but she felt like she should. She didn’t want Maureen to think she was boring. She was fascinating. She was Michelle Nguyen, she was cool, and trendy, and interesting. Totally, right?

 

“Cool.” Answered Maureen. “Maybe I could come by tomorrow and pick up an album?” That made Michelle smile. She didn’t even have control over it. Because Michelle didn’t really smile, it wasn’t cool to show your emotions like that, obviously.

 

“Sure, I’ll make sure to put a copy on hold for you.” She said, something moving, almost – fluttering – in her chest at the idea of Maureen coming by to her store, her fingers maybe brushing Michelle’s when she passed her the album, their eyes meeting. That feeling in chest growing, her pulse quickening.

 

Thud. Thud. Thud.

 

“Right. Well then, see you then.” Agreed Maureen. Michelle nodded and continued on to the check out. She thought of the invisible feeling of hands brushing the whole walk home.

 

* * *

 

 

“Do you want to go share a pack of cigarettes?” Asked Maureen, after she paid for her new album. Michelle paused. Technically it was still open hours at her record store. But then, it was her store, so she could close it if she wanted. Anyways, stores that were always open at the same time, every day, were totally uncool. So she agreed and followed Michelle out of Dark Owl Records down the street towards the Barista District and stopped only when Maureen did, leaning against a brick wall of an unnamed building across the street from the Night Vale Radio Station.

 

“I work there.” Maureen explained, nodding towards the radio station.

 

“Oh yeah?” Michelle wasn’t sure about that. She heard about all the other interns at the radio station… It wasn’t the most promising career choice. Dangerous. Not that Michelle cared, of course. She wasn’t worried, okay? Why would she be worried? Shut up.

“Yeah. It’s the worst internship ever, though.” Continued Maureen. “Cecil’s always making me do these things that make everyone think I’m gone forever. My family’s kind of annoyed about it. They either want to mourn me or not. The back and forth is causing confusion.” Michelle just hums in response.

 

“But I need my internship credit, right? So I’m thinking about getting a new one, an internship, I mean. There’s this guy, Chad. He was an intern at the station too. He said he needs an assistant to like, raise an army, or whatever. Might as well, right? It can’t be any worse than working for Cecil.” Maureen sighed, letting the smoke from her cigarette release from her throat, a thick cloud of grey smelling of peppermint. “You’re so lucky. I wish I could just have my own job, and be my own boss.”  
  
Michelle agreed. She loved her job. She loved being her own boss. It’s not like she would have listened to anyone else anyways. And she knew music. She knew it better than anyone else. So it totally made sense that that’s what she did for a living.

 

“It’s cool. This.” Said Maureen, gesturing to the two of them. “Most people don’t let me just talk like this. They always cut me off and say something like ‘Oh, Maureen, stop complaining so much. Flickering in and out of existence isn’t _that_ bad. You’re being _so_ unneededly dramatic.’ But you just let me speak, and you actually listen. It’s odd. But I like it.”

 

“I like it too.” Admitted Michelle. She didn’t really understand why anyone would interrupt Maureen. Her voice was so interesting. It was even better than Taylor Swift’s newest single I Love You Like I Love Split Ends. The way her voice wavered, how it tremored, how it swayed – it sent shivers down her spin. She shivered.

 

And so that’s how it went. Maureen would come over to the record store, and Michelle would recommend something new to her. Then they would go out together and smoke a pack of cigarettes, talking through the smoke about anything and everything. Maureen talked about her internship, Michelle talked about music, they both talked about their town and their families and whatever else. Which was totally fine. It was actually kind of nice, admitted Michelle. It was new, sure, but not unwelcome.

 

Michelle even gave Maureen her hopcore tape. The one she had made herself. The one she absolutely loved. The one no one else was supposed to hear. And Maureen liked it, and that made Michelle feel a whole lot of feelings. Like pride, excitement, jittery. And Maureen asked Michelle if she wanted to meet one of the Strangers. And so Michelle did, and they were so cool. Like, unique and different and creepy. Kind of like Maureen, but not really. Maureen was so much more than that, right? Michelle found that as the days passed she looked forward more and more to when Maureen would come by. Counting down the hours, minutes, seconds until the short girl would push open her shop door.

 

Tick. Tick. Tick.

 

* * *

 

 

“I need your help.” Said Maureen, running into the record store, her hair frizzy, her eyes wide, her hands shaking.

 

“What happened?” Asked Michelle, moving unconsciously closer to her companion.

 

“Chad, I don’t think he should be doing what he’s doing. I don’t want to lead this army, or whatever, anymore. I feel misled. It’s different than I thought it would be.” Maureen explained as she caught her breath, leaning against the counter.

 

“Totally.” Agreed Michelle, nodding vigorously. “What’re you going to do about it?”

 

“Well,” Started Maureen. “I’ve got to find a way to stop the army from destroying Night Vale. But how do I stop things that want nothing?”

 

“Oh yeah?” Commented Michelle, an idea coming to her mind. That Beyonce album, after all was incredibly important, and noteworthy... Like, who wouldn't want that? “Because I’ve got something I think might help with that.”

 

“Really?” Maureen answered, hey eyes filled with relief, her cheeks coloring, the corners of her lips quivering. “Oh, thank you, Michelle!” She moved quickly, jilted, nervously across the store towards Michelle, her arms slipping around the other girl’s waist, hands clutching skin, her lips pressed lightly, awkwardly, unsurely against the other’s. The kiss was quick, soft.

 

Michelle’s lips tingled, as she looked down at Maureen. The other girl was close, her dark eyes shining bright, a glow on her cheeks, the gap between her teeth noticeable as she smiled shyly. “Sorry,” Maureen whispered. “I didn’t mean to do that, like that, I mean.”

 

“Oh.” Replied Michelle, not sure what that meant exactly. All she could think about was the feeling of warmth leaving her lips and the press of hands on her hips.

 

“Not that I didn’t want to do that. I totally did. I just didn’t think to do it then, not really. I just did, I guess. I was just so relieved, and I just like you so much. Or whatever, well not whatever, actually. But you know? Right?” Maureen blinked up at her.

 

“I think?” Said Michelle. “How did you mean to do it?” She asked, her voice slightly wavering.

 

“Like this.” Responded Maureen. Then she leaned in slowly, and kissed her deeply. And Michelle totally understood, her lips moving, her hands sliding along the cotton of Maureen’s shirt, her heart beating quickly.

 

Thump. Thump. Thump.

 

“Right. Cool.” Breathed Michelle as their lips parted, Maureen smiling, eyes sparking, hands steading.

 

And it was. Totally, and utterly, cool.


End file.
